


Peace Lives Under a Blanket

by Kara_J



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 20:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17690126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kara_J/pseuds/Kara_J
Summary: All goes well when the Jericho crew are out on an expansion mission, but two of them aren't sleeping so well when away from home.  Nightmares and mid-evening thoughts bring two unlikely individuals together.





	Peace Lives Under a Blanket

_It’s been a long time since he’s felt it, the fighting, the swarms of FBI lighting the dark corridors with their bright flashlights jumping from corner to corner as they skim for androids. He’s about to die…. They are about to die… the innocent lives of those who just wanted to be free.  And it’s entirely his fault. He should have never found Jericho. Connor should have died, he thinks, died inside on that cold, snowy ground, held hostage to Cyberlife’s command in pitiful failure. Maybe then, his kind would have a chance._

_A small child stops in front of him, her eyes filled with fear and brimming in tears.  “Please… don’t!  I want to live…” she barely manages through pleading panic.  But his gun is already trained on her, barrel aimed directly between her eyes.  Connor pulls the trigger against his will, unstoppable to even his own commands, and everything suddenly comes to a halt when she screams in terror._  

Connor bolts up from his bed and finds his breath stolen from his too-fast heartbeat.  Just another dream... As he runs his hands against his face and lets out a deep breath, he can feel the cold sweat on his cheeks and forehead. How long has it been since he’s been through this?  And why is it coming back now of all times?  Brown eyes flitter left and right to scan the room for any witnesses.

The others in the bunks beside and above him remain in slumber, thankfully, save for North. She’s mildly thrashing as if still in battle with the humans – or else. Her arm slings over the edge, hand balled into a fist, and Connor knows better than to disrupt- she’s stronger than she appears.

Traditionally, he’d rather not be around anyone when he sleeps.  There wasn’t much choice in this one, though. Ever since the great success of the new location after the fall of Jericho, Markus grew inspired to share the massive support system outside of Detroit. With the overwhelming numbers of androids seeking their advice, everyone agreed it will help to make assistance more accessible to those outside the city. With the funds they were able to establish, abandoned buildings and warehouses outside of their Detroit were purchased and put under Jericho’s name. Safe havens, they are called, and it continues to successfully create a welcoming environment. The main operating rooms are still in the midst of construction, so the only comfortable resting place they have till it’s more complete is the emergency bunker. 

Sure, he could have stayed behind in Detroit, and for the first few additions, Connor _has_ , unsure if his presence was really going to be appreciated. Every time, though, the pang of guilt for not being there has grown larger and larger.  He _should_ be helping, but he hasn’t, not till now. The DPD is alright without him for a little while, and if this will soothe Connor’s soul, to be here, actively helping Jericho, then he needs to do this. Otherwise, he’d never volunteer to sleep in the same room with so many, nor face the feeling of vulnerability. The only one who’s seen him in his down time is was Hank, but hank is only _one_ person, Hank is _family_.

The next few days will be a pinch, though, now that he’s fought through it tonight.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

It’s been three nights in a row now. Not that sleep has never come easy to her. North has always felt alone in her struggle, even with other “Traci” models out there, independent and on their own alike. She supposes the difference is how and when they were liberated. Their safe cylindrical “homes” where they couldn’t be beat, threatened in violence, nor put in clients’ homes. That’s the difference, she supposes, they had supervision, a safety net in a sense, had their memories conveniently erased so they knew nothing of what they’d done before. 

But North… her last memory of a “client” left a lasting impression. She could have been damaged, killed, and that bastard wouldn’t have had to pay a cent for his actions. Humans are so selfish and unwilling to own up to their actions unless it benefits them. If she could get by with it under the new android-human law, she’d go back and strangle him again. No matter how much time passes, it’s something she’s still trying to get over, even if she’s learned that not all humans are alike – some _are_ compassionate. _The past is the past, and she’s adapting to live for today,_ North reminds herself. That memory – _that dream_ – shouldn’t matter any more

She turns over onto her side, back turned to everyone, trying to imagine that they are gone and she is by herself in her cozy home. Even with eyes closed, though, she hears it.

 

“ _No… no_!”

 

Its Connor… he’s done this every night he’s slept here, just not in words, only in incoherent mumbles. She’s never been sure what to do but let him ride it out – or at least that’s what she’d want them to do for her, the thought of anyone near her bed is the last thing she’d choose.  Her ears perk up a little more, curious for answers that her mind has inquired for.

 

 _“_ _D-don’t… don’t follow me…”_

 

_Connor shifts in his bed a little more violently than he should._

Oh yes, he jerks around every time too, she knows by telltale signs of blanket folds quickly tugging against a cotton-lined mattress. (A blanket… what android has ever been so bothered by cold that they’d need one?) It dawns on her that she’s not the only one who knows these kinds of dreams. Have there been others the whole time, too, other androids she left out of the pain because she’d been so focused on her own? Here she is, thinking she’s the only one who’s suffered this much, dreamed of a past so terrible.  The others around the two seem quite content, though. Oddly, enough, it’s only him who tosses and turns in this room.

 

_“Don’t kill them… please…”_

 

Now her heart aches. His experiences are far different from hers, things she can’t even begin to imagine when she has no experience in police work. They’re from two entirely different worlds, one designed for the pleasure of man, the other created for the pursuit of deviants.  She’s always suspected a hint of reluctance when he’s around them and started paying attention to his expressions. They’re so minute, she can barely tell one look from another, the positive from the negative, the heart-felt willingness or hard-edge obligation. 

She turns around to look at him, _really_ pay attention to him. Now that she keeps her eyes on the figure huddled tightly beneath the thick blanket, North realizes he’s actually kind of cute. With a short gasp, she quickly tries to take the thought back, squeezing her eyes shut, but she can’t forget it, can’t stop herself from opening them again to absorb his image. Connor’s such a mystery… a puzzle of both resting-bitch-face and head-strong action.  No wonder he’s so good at his job, one that few have taken on or voiced gratitude for. He just… does what’s expected of him, or so it seems. If only he would open up for once…

 

_“It’s my… my fault.”_

 

This time he lets out a faint sob, one so quiet, anyone still asleep wouldn’t hear it.

 _Oh…_ North sits halfway up and leans on her elbow, eyes never peeling away from him. Nobody’s realized how much whatever is happening in his thoughts right now hurts. It pains her soul to watch him struggle alone. Suddenly the desire to be by herself tonight doesn’t matter anymore.  Connor isn’t that lust-filled man she met in Eden, that sweat-beaded, heavy breathed pervert that demanded so violently.  No, instead he’s someone she can trust – someone who needs support as much as she does.

Every so gently, North sits up and lets her feet on the floor. Quietly rising from her bed, she tiptoes to where he’s lying, fighting sleep. She’s never slept with a blanket over her, but if _he_ \- a badass android cop and detective who’s caught countless criminals and fought like fire to do it- uses one, it must be comfortable.  It’s challenging between the twitching of limbs and faint cries to slide underneath it, and he must be awfully terribly exhausted to not notice right away, but North manages to snuggle right by his side.

 _Oh…_ the warmth of the blanket is more pleasing than she’d imagined! It sends a cozy feeling on her skin and somehow she’s finding that she’s oddly soothed. A small flinch in Connor’s shoulder and a light mutter catches her attention though.  The furrow in his brows is more than enough to remind her why she came over here.  North cautiously reaches her left arm over his chest and rests her hand lightly on his right shoulder, careful not to jolt him awake. Connor’s left shoulder is surprisingly comfortable when she lays her head down. _Snuggling_ , she thinks…. _So this is what that is_ … and it’s _nice_. It’s nothing like the sweat-ridden, dirty demands she lived for before. 

North begins to wonder whether her presence will alert him even more, but instead, he’s…. calmed down. Connor’s no longer jolting, shifting, jerking, sobbing, tugging… he’s… _sleeping peacefully_.  Was this what they both needed the whole time? In the time that she lays with him, underneath that _oh-so-nice_ blanket she ignorantly judged before, North finds that even her own eyes are starting to feel heavy again.  Reality is drifting away from her and the last thing she thinks about just before everything falls into peace again is how _nice_ it is to have someone by her side who just might understand her after all.

 

 

 


End file.
